“I can’t imagine what you expected me to see,” she said with some exasperation after she had patiently described for the fourth time what she had seen through the distance-viewer.

“I expected,” and he paused significantly, “to find some—some characteristic for which the dragons could fly between.” He plucked at the bed fur, then pulled the recalcitrant forelock back from his eyes. “We have got to keep that promise to the Lord Holders.”

“Why? To prove Meron wrong?”

“No. To prove it is or is not possible to get rid of Thread permanently.” He scowled at her as if she should have known the answer.

“I think someone else must have tried to discover that before,” she said wearily. “And we still have Thread.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he countered in such a savage tone that he began to cough, an exercise which painfully contracted the injured muscles across his waist.

Instantly Lessa was at his side, offering him distilled wine, sweetened and laced with fellis fruit juice.

“I want F’nor,” he said petulantly.

Lessa looked down at him for the coughing spasm had left him limp.

“If we can pry him away from Brekke.”

F’lar’s lips set in a thin line.

“You mean, only you, F’lar, Benden Weyrleader, can flout tradition?” she asked.

“That isn’t…”

“If it’s your pet project you’re worrying about, I had N’ton secure Thread…”

“N’ton?” F’lar’s eyes flew open in surprise.

“Yes. He’s a good lad and, from what I heard at Fort Weyr last night, very deft in being exactly where he is needed, unobtrusively.”

“And…?”

“And? Well, when the next queen at Fort Weyr rises, he’ll undoubtedly take the Leadership. Which is what you intended, isn’t it?”

“I don’t mean that. I mean, the Thread.”

Lessa felt her guts turn over at the memory. “As you thought, the grubs rose to the surface the instant we put the Thread in. Very shortly there was no more Thread.”

F’lar’s eyes shone and he parted his lips in a triumphant smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

At that, Lessa jammed both fists against her waist and awarded him one of her sternest looks.

“Because there have been a few other things to occupy my mind and time. This is not something we can discuss in open session, after all. Why, if even such loyal riders as…”

“What did N’ton say? Does he fully understand what I’m trying to do?”

Lessa eyed her Weyrmate thoughtfully. “Yes, he does, which is why I chose him to substitute for F’nor.”